Hidden
by Melody Hope13
Summary: Lydia has just moved to Privet Drive, where everything is so boringly normal. That is, until she meets Harry, the boy next door with the obnoxious cousin. Soon after, owls are swooping down upon his house, strange things happen and nothing is the same. Her parents are hiding things from her and she finds out she's a witch. What other secrets are there to unfold? Read and find out.
1. Uncle Mercy

Lydia sighed, gazing up at the clouds. She was completely and utterly bored. Everything around Privet Drive was quiet. Well, except for that rude boy next door. What was his name again? David? Duncan? Dugan? Dudley! What a stupid name. She twirled her blonde hair, white in the sunlight.

"Liddy, I'm almost done making dinner" her mother called from the kitchen window.

"Ok" she answered as she stood.

Yes, she was still there. "Hello Mrs. Dursley." She stifled a laugh as the woman on the other side of the fence jumped nervously.

"Oh, hello." Her beady eyes watered as she looked down at the slight girl in overalls.

"I'm Lydia. I live here now" she stated quite simply.

"I didn't know they had a daughter. How interesting! Have you met my Dudders yet?" she asked, beaming proudly as she went on about her 'dear, sweet little boy'. Lydia waited politely and patiently for the old crone to take a breath before interjecting.

"Yes, I met him just yesterday." Finally, that stopped her bragging for a moment.

"Oh, how wonderful!" She looked like she was about to launch into another speech about how great her Duddykins was when a booming voice shouted for her. She sighed in relief as the woman ran back inside to serve her family dinner.

Rolling her eyes, she turned around and smacked right into something.

"Ow!" She'd opened her mouth, but the voice wasn't hers. Looking around carefully with her hands, she found her glasses. With a relieved sigh, she slid them back onto her face, but they didn't feel quite right.

Something touched her foot and her instincts took over. Next thing she knew, there was a person pinned under her.

"Sorry" the boy grunted out.

"Say uncle."

"What?" he asked in disbelief.

"Say uncle, or is mercy more your style? Either way, you're not moving until you say it. The boy squinted up at the strange girl sitting firmly on his chest, her knees pinning his arms down.

"Uncle Mercy?"

She giggled in amusement. "You only have to say one, silly" she said, dismounting her accidental victim, helping him to stand. He looked up at her, or at least tried to.

"I'm over here" she said, a bit to the left from where he was looking. As he turned to face her, she could see his black hair move away from his green eyes. "Oh, I think these are yours" she said, sliding the glasses off of her face. She tried handing them to him, but with the blind leading the blind, it didn't work out too well. "Hold still for just a moment" she commanded. The boy nodded, then held perfectly still as she slid the glasses onto his face while squinting. "Alright, you can move now."

"Thanks. These must be yours then. Don't move" he said, returning the favor with her glasses.

"Thank you" she said with an apologetic smile as he drew away after her eyes were restored. She took every detail of him in. He was slightly shorter than her with jet black hair that stuck up all over the place, reminding her of a porcupine. His eyes were a pretty green, like soft moss in a forest. He wore beat up clothes that were ten sizes too big for him and his shirt alone was like a tent in comparison to his scrawny-looking body.

"I'm Harry" he held out his hand, his lips turning up weakly at the edges.

"I'm Lydia." She took his hand and shook it, as her parents had taught her to do when meeting someone new. He shook back with a friendly light in his eyes. She giggled as she looked down at their hands and they were still shaking a few beats longer than necessary. With a chuckle to match hers, Harry let go.

"So where do you live?" she asked curiously. She'd never seen this boy before, and her parents had been quite sure to introduce her to every kid around her age within a one-mile radius in the last few months since they'd moved there.

"Next door" he answered somewhat reluctantly.

She had a good feeling about this boy, so she couldn't help it when her mouth opened up into a great big grin. "That's great! Can you come over tomorrow? I've gotta go in soon for dinner, but I'll be out here tomorrow."

He looked at the ground. "Um… I'm not sure."

"How come?"

"I can't tell you."

Thinking for a moment, she nodded at coming up with her solution. "Then I'll just wait for when you can come out, ok?"

Harry smiled and nodded back. "Ok" she waved goodbye as she skipped inside.

For the next week, she spent every single day playing outside, waiting for him. He rarely came out, but she found out why the next time she saw him.

"My aunt and uncle, they don't like me. I don't know why, but they hate me for all the weird things that happen around me as if it's my fault" he told her as they lay in the yard one day.

So, she'd patiently wait for him every day, all summer long, until one day, he'd just stopped coming altogether. Something strange was happening around that house. Every day, she'd see owls flying to the Dursley's house, dropping envelopes. Now, she gazed up in wonder at a whole flock of them, perched on the rooftop next door. What were they waiting for?

As if to answer her silent question, Mr. Dursley stepped one foot out of his front door and the owls descended. One by one, they dropped their letters on him while he covered his head and ducked behind his car as though this were and avian air-raid. A giggle escaped her throat, although Mr. Dursley was far too distracted to notice.

"That does it," he said in a forced calm tone to his gangly wife who had come out at his frustrated shouting. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!" Everyone inside sprung into action. Her grey eyes darted from window to window, searching for Harry. Everything happened so fast! When her gaze finally found him, he was being roughly shoved into the car by his trollish brute of a cousin.

"What's going on? Where are you taking Harry?" she asked frantically, running around the fence to stand at the end of their driveway.

"We're moving! Somewhere far, far away!" Mr. Dursley roared with laughter, then slid into the driver's sear. Lydia's eyes went wide as Harry turned to face her.

"I'm s-" he started to speak, but Dudley punching him hard in the stomach.

"Who's that, Potter? Is that your girlfriend?" he laughed maniacally as he and his mother got in. Mr. Dursley backed the car out of the driveway, almost running her over. He turned the car right and before long, the car and Harry were out of sight, leaving her in the middle of the road, alone in the world.

She stood there for hours, hoping beyond hope that the large walrus of a man would come back, having forgotten something important and valuable. No matter how hard she wished, it didn't come true. When the sun set, she was guided inside by her father.

He held her close, laying her head on his chest as she cried it all out. Even though it was his favorite concert t-shirt, he let her tears fall all over the Celtic Thunder insignia. Her eyes finally left with no tears to cry, she rubbed her nose on her sleeve and looked up at him, her eyes now the color of storm clouds. He gently kissed her on the forehead and carried her up to her room. Laying her on the bed, he tucked her in and caressed her tender cheek.

"I never got to say goodbye…" she mumbled.

Smiling kindly, he ran his fingers through his sand-colored hair. "Well Liddy, then you're going to see him again one day. If you never said goodbye, he's never truly gone, see?" She nodded. He leaned down, gently kissed her on the cheek, then left. Sleep pulled her down, exhausted from all the tears she'd shed that day.


	2. Secrets

The next morning, she stretched and made her way down to breakfast. The smell of pancakes and sausage beckoned to her, pulling her forward with their scent.

"What does that even mean?" her mother whispered over the sizzling of the meat in the pan.

"You're asking me?" her father responded in the same hushed and secretive tone. "I don't know what any of this means! And who is this Minerva McGonagall?"

"Ha! That one sounds relatively normal when you try to pronounce the other name! What kind of a name is Albus Dumbledore?"

"Who's Amos Dumbadare?" she asked, making both her parents jump.

"It's nothing Liddy, now come eat your breakfast." He mother said, laying out a plate of food for her beside her father. She'd never had reason to mistrust her parents, but every anxious glance between them caused her more and more suspicion.

Sitting down, she reached for the syrup and caught a glance at the envelope trapped under her father's plate. In raised green ink, it read: Ms. L Rhodes, 3 Privet Drive, Little Whingning, Surrey.

"I got a letter?"

"It's nothing Liddy, really." He handed her the butter.

"But it's addressed to me. It could be from Sandra."

"It's not honey."

"How do you know that?"

Just as her father was about to speak, there came a tapping at the door. Her parents gave each other yet another look and that was what decided it for her. Standing quickly, she hopped up to answer the door before either of the conspirators could stop her.

Opening the door wide, the sunlight poured in around the older woman. Her hair was pulled up in a very orderly bun. She wore an emerald dress with long sleeves, roomy enough to hold a terrier, rectangular glasses to frame her kind eyes, and a smile to match.

"Hello. Is this the residence of Lydia Heather Rhodes?" Lydia nodded slowly at the use of her full name.

"Am I in trouble or something?"

As the lady's smile broadened in amusement, the skin around her eyes crinkled slightly. "Not at all. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall. I trust you received the letter informing you of my visit?"

Her mother shuffled nervously, which only made the woman that much more interesting.

"What letter?" Although she was looking at Professor McGonagall, her eyes wandered over to her parents. After a moment of awkward silence, her father spoke up.

"So this is real? What that letter said isn't just some sort of prank?"

"Goodness, no. May I come in? This would be much easier to explain with both of you sitting down and comfortable."

"Come on in!" Lydia lead her over to the sitting room, sitting her in the squishy leather chair. She wanted answers and darn it, she was going to get them!

McGonagall motioned for her and her parents to sit on the couch for this important news. Lydia plopped down right in the middle. "So what's going on?" she asked, not wanting to wait for her parents.

"Lydia, has anything strange ever happened to you? Something you couldn't explain?"

After thinking for a moment with her nearly invisible blonde eyebrows furrowed, she came up with a memory. "Well, I remember one time I made my bunny disappear-"

"Just stop it!" her father shouted. "Liddy, go to your room. The adults need to talk."

"No." she said so quietly that her mother had to strain to hear her.

"Lydia, go to your room. Now dear."

"No" she repeated in quiet defiance.

"I apologize sincerely for how this must seem to you," McGonagall stepped in," but your daughter has every right to know about what she can do. Unless you'd like to treat this like we live in the times of the Salem trials, I ask that you trust me to guide your daughter. If she doesn't learn to control her magic, it could run rampant and do serious damage. Not just physically, but she would reveal magic to the muggle world. She is a rare gift. She has magic running through her in a non-magical family."

The discussion went on for another hour or so, but eventually, Lydia ended up outside with one hand on her suitcase and the other in McGonagall's.

"There are a couple more stops to make before we go to Hogwarts, just so you know."

"Where are we going now? And how are we going to get there?" she asked, not seeing an unfamiliar car in sight.

"You'll see. Just hold onto me and your belongings tightly. Oh, and you may want to close your eyes."

She did as her mentor suggested, holding on tightly with her eyes shut. Next, she heard a loud crack and felt as though she'd been lifted and set down once again.

"You can open them now." McGonagall said softly.

Feeling a little bit dizzy, she opened her eyes to find herself in a completely different location. It was colder here and everything seemed a little less colorful, but seemed pleasant in its own right.


	3. A New Friend

"Do you mind waiting here for a bit?"

Lydia shook her head. McGonagall patted her shoulder reassuringly before walking up to the door and knocking, leaving her to wait on the sidewalk. Taking in her surroundings, she laughed a bit, giddy. "Magic is so cool!" she whispered to herself.

About twenty minutes later, McGonagall came back out with a girl her age in tow. The girl had the puffiest hair she'd ever seen, but was otherwise adorable. The way she walked was so close to McGonagall's that it was a bit scary.

"Lydia, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is Lydia."

Lydia gave a shy smile. Hermione returned it with a small wave. McGonagall repeated the directions for teleporting for the new girl, and, after both trunks were zapped away, they were off. Opening their eyes, the girls found themselves in a crowded street, clinging to the professor for dear life.

"Didn't they see us teleport?" she asked McGonagall in a hushed tone.

"Yes, they saw us apparate, but we are among our own kind. We are in Diagon Alley in the Wizarding World."

"Oh, alright."

"Why are we here?" Hermione asked, looking around curiously.

"Well, being that you two are muggle-born, you don't have any wizard money. Hogwarts set aside some money for you to get school supplies. That's what we are here for."

"What kind of supplies?"

"You'll see soon enough." McGonagall smiled and lead them through several shops.

First, they got their school robes. The lady running the shop had taken measurements for what felt like eternity. Then, after that torture was over, she went on to stage two; pins. It seemed like she was trying to draw as much blood as possible with several tiny little pricks. When she'd walked out of the room, Lydia turned to Hermione.

"Is it just me, or do you think this woman's a vampire too?"

Hermione laughed quietly.

"Well it's either that, or she thinks we're a couple of voodoo dolls." Lydia continued.

Hermione had to cover her mouth, pretending to sneeze as the seamstress came back in, to cover the bubbly giggle that started to come out.

After their robes were finished and neatly tucked away in a bag, they thanked the vampire voodoo seamstress and went off to get their books. As they walked in, Hermione and Lydia's jaws both dropped at the sheer size of the book store.

"So. Many. Books!" Lydia had to bite her lip to contain an excited fit.

Hermione ran her fingers gingerly along the spines while McGonagall went straight to the proprietor. He swiftly went about collecting two copies of each book on the list and came back with a rather large pile. With McGonagall opening a small black bag for him, he slid each book into it one by one. Somehow, they all fit perfectly without the bag showing any disturbance whatsoever.

"Come along girls. Just a couple more stops to go."

"But the books…" the girls whimpered together.

McGonagall chuckled. "Hogwarts has a rather well-supplied library if it interests you that much." Both girls quickly skipped along behind her, wanting to get there as fast as they possibly could.


	4. Moonshadow

Hermione kept pace easily, but Lydia found herself falling a bit behind in her attempts not to step on the hem of McGonagall's dress as it dragged along behind her. Before long, she found herself alone in a busy street of witches and wizards, strange items being sold all around her. As she twirled around, trying to find her companions, she felt something claw at her leg gently. If she hadn't heard the soft mewing, she may have kicked the poor creature halfway down the street.

Looking down, she found a small black fluff ball of a kitten sitting on her foot. Quickly but gently, she reached down and lifted the palm-sized menace to her face and drifted off over to the sidewalk. Looking into a pair of liquid-gold eyes, she scolded it jokingly.

"Are you trying to get trampled? You're a crazy kitty, you know that?" The cat only purred and nuzzled her cheek. "Oh don't you try that act with me." She said unconvincingly through a giggle. "Oh alright, but I can't keep you."

"Who says ye can't?" asked a rough voice behind her, making both her and the cat jump.

She turned around and looked up… and up… and up until she found the face of a huge man in a trench coat with a snow white owl in a cage clutched in his gargantuan hand. His black bushy hair surrounded his face, blending into his scruffy beard.

"Well, um… I don't think the school would allow me to have a pet." She spoke softly, shaking a little.

"Hogwarts? Ye can 'ave a toad, an owl, or a cat if yeh like."

"Oh. Th-thanks."

"There you are! We've been looking all over for you, Miss Rhodes." McGonagall said, fluttering over in a nervous fit.

"Sorry professor. I couldn't keep up…" She looked behind her again, but the giant man was gone.

"Well, we've found you and you're not hurt. That's all that matters. Now, off to get your wand!" She said, taking firm hold of her hand like a child. Lydia sheepishly held on, despite feeling like she was five years old. They walked across the street, but as she found herself glancing backward, she spotted the large man looming over the sea of people. Catching his eye, she smiled in thanks and walked along, trying not to trip while she firmly held the frightened kitten.

Striding into Ollivander's, she couldn't help but notice shelves that seemed to go on and on. An old man with snow white hair on his head greeted her with a gentle smile as he looked up from a conversation with Hermione.

"So this would be the lost lamb, hm?" He started to chuckle, but ended up coughing. "Oh dear, too much dust in this old shop." Lydia watched as he turned, picking a box after a going through a long thought process. "Redwood, dragon heartstring, nine and three quarter inches." He said, setting it in front of her.

"Sir, what am I supposed to do?" she asked, trying to be as polite as possible.

"Wave it around a bit. It will decide on it's own."

Furrowing her eyebrows, she tenderly pulled it from its satin bedding. As Lydia twirled it in the air, Hermione found her own wand flying across the room. "Sorry!" She set it down just as gingerly as she had picked it up, though more swiftly.

Setting that wand back in its proper home, Ollivander slid another out. And another. And another. After setting McGonagall's hair on fire, tying Hermione's laces together, and turning Ollivander's face purple, he pulled out one more. "That one didn't match up at all. Let's try this one. Rowan, unicorn hair, eleven and a half inches."

"Are you sure that I should?" She asked, not wanting to cause any more trouble. In fact, she'd started to doubt that she had any magical ability at all. How could so many wands hate her?

"I'm quite certain, young lady. In all my years, I have never been unable to find a witch or wizard a wand that did not harmonize with them and I'm not about to break that streak now." He smiled reassuringly and inched the box closer to her.

Hesitantly, she touched the tip of it as though it were a bomb ready to go off. She felt something warm her inside. Feeling braver, she slid her finger from the tip down to the end and grasped it in her hand. It hummed through her fingertips down to her toes. Already, it felt like an extension of herself. Gold and silver sparks shot merrily from the tip, a tiny firework display just for her.

"Looks like you have found your match, Ms. Rhodes." McGonagall said, standing up straight from the defensive position she'd taken.

Hermione came out of the coat closet, beaming. "I knew you'd find one!"

Paying for the wands, the three of them walked out and down the street to an abandoned alley. With a flick of her wand, McGonagall made all the luggage reappear in front of them. "Your bags are packed with everything, you've got your wands, and-" she stopped, taking note of Lydia's cat. "Who would this be?"

The kitten squirmed in her hand. Setting it on her shoulder, Lydia cleared her throat. "I haven't come up with his name yet, although I suppose I should." Looking the cat over seriously, she came up with a few options. "How about Salem?" The cat yowled at her.

The cat yowled at her.

"Shadowfang?" McGongagall suggested.

The cat growled softly.

"Midnight?" suggested Hermione. The cat yawned.

"Moonshadow!" Lydia said. Cuddling up to her neck, he purred. "Moonshadow it is." She giggled.

"Alright then. Keep Moonshadow close. You'll have to purchase a collar for him some other day because right now, we have to catch a train."


	5. Trevor Train Trouble

As their teacher had instructed, the girls changed into their uniforms once they got to their compartment. With a grunt, Lydia and Hermione worked together to shove their collective luggage up onto the shelves. McGonagall had left to make quite certain things ran smoothly. Exhausted from wrestling with their heavy trunks, the two girls collapsed on opposite seats. Just as they began to relax, someone tapped on the door to their compartment.

"Enter." Lydia said, looking to Hermione who was just as confused as she was.

A boy opened the door, his trunk at his feet and a frog tightly clutched in his hand, threatening to hop away if his muscles slackened even a fraction. "Do you mind? Professor McGonagall sent me."

Lydia crossed the compartment to sit beside Hermione to make room for the boy.

"I'm Neville." The round faced boy said, setting his frog on the table to get his trunk up on top with theirs. Moonshadow hissed at the slimy green creature, but refused to come near it.

"Hermione." She said to him, but was eyeing his toad.

"Lydia." She said, pulling her legs up off the floor as she shrunk over into the corner.

Hermione looked up as the boy sat down. Leaning over, he reached for the toad which quickly leapt out the open door.

"Trevor!" shouted Neville, running out after his pet.

With a quick look at each other, the two girls got up to help him. "You go look at the back half, I'll ask around closer to the front." Hermione said, taking the lead. With a nod, Lydia made her way to the back of the train.

Compartment after compartment, she opened the door, asked if they'd seen a toad hopping around anywhere, and moved on to the next.

"-was in Slytherin." She heard as she opened the last compartment. Gazing in and taking a quick glance about the apartment, she directed the question at the boy with almost white-blonde hair.

"Have you seen a toad about? A boy named Neville's lost his."

He scoffed at her, his eyes glowering upward into hers. "He should've left something as filthy as that to the muggles."

"Oh really? Muggles are filthy, are they? All of them?"

"Of course they are." He sneered. "They don't belong mixing with us magical folk."

She took a moment to consider how to respond. "Well, if they're so horribly filthy and shouldn't be mixing with magical families, answer me this. How did I come about if my entire family is non-magical?" Before he could send back some horrific retort, Lydia spun on her heel, slammed the door behind her, and marched back to her compartment. Plopping into her seat, Hermione and Neville soon followed with the escape artist in hand.

"Where'd you find him?" she asked, Moonshadow curling up in her lap.

"In the engine room…" Hermione groaned.

"Poor little fella almost fell into the furnace!" Neville said, sliding the troublemaker into a jar before he could leap away again.

"I'm glad he's alright." She said, turning a grimace into a warm and reassuring smile.


End file.
